The Darkness
by Teddy Bearic
Summary: One man's account of his life after acquiring the tome of eternal darkness.
1. Prologue

There once was a time when I saw the world as you do. Back before this cursed tome came into my possession. Only then were my eyes open to the monstrosities of this universe. That we are merely pawns in a celestial game of chess that we cant even begin to fathom. A game that has been played since before our time, mayhaps even before time itself. The fools say ignorance is bliss without even knowing how right they are. Maybe after reading this you too will come to understand fear as I have and learn never to linger in the shadows.

The tome is unlike anything else I have ever seen. Flesh and bone bound together by hair and preserved somehow unbeknownst to me. The pages that show themselves to me are filled with horrifying images of the occult, records of other people, of other times, and of other lands. Each one is written in blood that looks fresh, as if the author used his own veins instead of an ink well that very morn. Not every page is filled with notes however, scattered throughout are pages that appear blank, although when I gaze upon them I can't help but have a feeling of dread and unease, as if something is on that page that is so heinous that my being refuses to acknowledge it's very existence.

Upon picking up the book it had flooded my with experiences that are not my own. Of others before me, of times before recorded history to times that have yet to happen. Each focuses around the holder of this tome battling against a foreboding eternal darkness. I fear for my sanity for I have seen fates worse than death and I know what waits for me in the shadows. This will be a written journal of what I have seen, of the memories I posses that are not my own and eventually of my own fate for I have seen it yet I know there is nothing in my power to change it.


	2. Chapter 1

I arrived in Salem in late February by carriage. Two young girls were accused of witchcraft and I was sought after for my expertise on the subject. I have spent most of my life following my father, traveling from town to town, observing the queer and the occult. My father was revered for his abilities of purging sin from villages. In this undertaking he was relentless and the screams of the guilty could be heard for hours, sometimes days, while he worked.

He had many tools he would employ to force a confession from the damned fools who made pacts with the devil himself. Many of which came from foreign lands but more than a few were of his own imagining. I would always watch as my father did his work. When I was younger and first subjected to my father's work the images would haunt my dreams. Of tongues being removed, thumbs crushed, cages of rats heated above the sinner's stomachs, eyes being removed from the safety of their sockets. Against my protests he would always make sure I was watching, reassuring me that the things before me were no longer human but of some godless creature sent to destroy man.

Even as I grew older I was never able to distance myself as he could. I could never see them as the demons he claimed them to be, as the monsters the towns swore they were. I grew desensitized to his chore however. The sounds of bones cracking no longer made me flinch, the fetor of burning flesh would no longer make me retch, and the screams would no longer terrorize me while I slept. I did however enjoy the hunt when father would accept a job. I had a natural gift at it. He would never question citizens without me by his side. I could always tell if they were hiding something or bending the truth. No one was better at tracking down the sinners than I. To me it was a game that I had to win. Often after we would talk to the towns folk father would enjoy a pint at the local pub while I made my way around the town alone.

Nothing ever stood out about me. I am of average height, weight, looks. It fit me well though, when I didn't want to be seen it was rather easy not to. I was always finding ways to get into areas I wasn't allowed. Able to hear and see things others wished to keep secret. Father would sometimes reward me for good information in his hunt, especially when it lead to the capture of sinners. This more often than not was allowing me to skip his sessions with the sinner, giving me the peace of mind that I so desired and with it a dreamless nights rest. I always tried to please father for this very reason.

This is how things would carry on for a while however one investigation still haunts me to this day. It is why I am so good at what I do and why many others have sought after me. It was early spring and a small village recently had two young boys go missing. They managed to find the body of one a couple days later in shambles. The chest was described as being ripped open, as if something had come bursting out from within. The face was twisted and deformed in the shape of a scream that would never come. His limbs were bent in an unnatural manner, bending and twisting in ways that would distress normal onlookers. Instantly the villagers had suspicions of witchcraft and hoping for the other boys well being employed my father and I who were merely passing through a couple days after the grisly discovery.

As always my father would seek audience with the leader of this village and negotiate cost of this hunt and set up terms. It was a rather poor village so he would be arguing over crops and various trade goods as payment. As always he would seek audience at the local pub. There he could have a meal, a drink, and it would allow me to watch the others as they bickered back at forth at one another, arguing over concerns in their own little worlds. That's when I saw her. She looked a few years my senior. Her hair was orange and looked aflame every time she moved, lit from the windows behind her. Her face was covered in freckles, eyes that glistened like emeralds, and a smile that could melt even the most frozen of hearts.

"What'll ya be havin?"

I sat there frozen, at a loss for words, mouth agape. She laughed, walked away, and returned with a pint.

"Take it that's ya pap over there." she said with a nod of her head as she sat the glass down. I glanced over to see my father sitting calmly at a table while a rather plump man with a red face was signing a piece of paper. He slammed the quill on the table and stormed out. My father gave a nod of his head to no one in particular signifying we had work to do. We stayed separated when first entering villages so others wouldn't watch their tongues around me. I looked back at the girl standing in front of me, mouth still agape and feeling as though it was filled with cotton. She laughed again and said "I'll charge him then. Don't know why ya are so far apart but I won't question ya."

"Thanks." I replied as I looked down at the liquid she had sat in front of me. The drink before me was of the same concoction they served at every place like this, ale. It's a yellowish liquid that tastes foul and often lead to the poor decisions made by the ones who drank it. My father always enjoyed a pint or two before he met with a sinner, he said it made things a bit easier. I sat there pondering into my cup, debating if I wanted to drink this horrible thing in front of me. I looked around the room and noticed that girl was looking at me. I panicked and took a swig from the disgusting brew. My face tightened as the foul liquid hit my tongue. Still as foul tasting as I remember from when I was young and snuck a taste from my father's while he wasn't looking. It had the taste of dandelions. I could hear her giggle but I didn't mind. It was actually somewhat cute sounding. I didn't want to seem rude so I decided to finish the drink. It went down more easily with each gulp.

It wasn't long before the cup was empty and I decided I should get to work. I stood up and walked over to the door. I felt slightly light headed but it shouldn't affect my work. The air outside was refreshing and the sun was about to reach it's zenith. I decided I would first head off to the village square and pretend to browse wares while I eavesdropped. Unfortunately a town as small as this didn't have many shops to peruse. God must have smiled upon me today however for not long after I reached the hub did I spy a group of three men discussing some matter under the shadow of an eave. One of the men was clearly distressed over something and kept looking about frantically.

I made my way over to a merchant selling hides. It was as close to the group as I could make it without giving away that I was trying to listen upon the group's conversation. The merchant was busy arguing price with another man which made my task difficult. I picked up a hide and pretended to examine it as I focused on their conversation.

"The boy tried to escape. We didn't have a choice."

"The others aren't happy with us as it is and I don't want to end up like the other one."

"You mean the one they found in the woods?"

"No you dolt, they don't find the ones that disappoint the others."

"Oi, ya gonna buy anything or what?" the merchant yelled at me from across his booth. The other man must have not liked his prices for the merchant was holding the skin they were arguing over in a tight grip, his knuckles white. His face was red and his brow furrowed. I decided not to dwandle any longer and seek the wrath of the disgruntled merchant.

"I was just admiring your wares but I fear I must take my leave, thank you."

The merchant spat as I walked away. I took note of the three men. They hadn't seemed to notice me so I hid behind a small cobblestone wall as I watched them. It wasn't long before they parted ways, two men including the nervous one took a road that lead out of town and into the woods; however, the one that looked like the leader of the trio went the opposite direction. I decided to follow him for hiding in a crowd is easier than hiding amongst the trees. I followed the man down an alley to a small ruinous looking shack. The man looked around before passing through the doorway and entering the disheveled abode.

The building was old and made of wood with no windows and only the one door. It's roof was in shambles and the walls covered in moss and vines. It was big enough to comfortably house three people but lacked any form of luxury and couldn't have had any more than one room. It gave the appearance of a large storage shed more than that of a cottage. I crept up alongside the building and pressed my ear to one of the walls hoping to hear of anything that was occurring inside but no sound reached me. I decided to retreat to a safe distance and wait until the man appeared again staying out of sight in case the other two happened upon me.

I am unaware of how much time had passed but the sun was clearly past it's zenith and dusk would soon be on us when the girl from the pub walked into my line of sight carrying a basket covered with a cloth. Before I could realise what was happening my body was acting of it's own accord and I was following her down winding streets, past countless buildings, until finally she was standing at the outskirts of town. She lifted the cloth on the basket ever so slightly and checked the contents with a glance. From the distance I couldn't make out what was inside. She then looked from side to side before heading off into the woods. Part of me was suspicious of her, another part was worried. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach telling me she shouldn't head into those dark woods.

The town had deforested about seventy-five feet all around the village save for the larger patches for crops and livestock. Times were still dangerous and it made it harder for intruders to sneak their way into town. The tree line had been cleared of underbrush for another couple hundred feet shortly after this village was first erected but it hadn't been maintained in some time. Saplings have sprouted since then and the various other plants have started creeping their way back towards the village making the trails more treacherous than they normally should be.

The sun was about to descend into the horizon when she spoke.

"I know ya are there, followin me, why?"

There was no way she could have spotted me. No one has ever been able to notice me unless I wanted them to. This is a natural gift god has bestowed upon me and I am the best there is at it. Perhaps she is calling my bluff and just saying that in hopes that if she was being followed that her pursuer would reveal themselves.

"Have ya been following me since ya saw me at the pub? I know ya are behind that ol' oak."

I was frozen. Not only did she know someone was following her, she knew it was me, and knew exactly where I was hiding. I peeked around the side of the old tree. The basket she was carrying was on the ground, the cloth had been thrown to the side, and in her hands was an old looking tome. Due to the distance I couldn't make out much detail but the leather that bound it looked pale in color and the cover was adorned with small objects laid out in a circle around the clasp.

She stood there for a few seconds then looked back over her shoulder in my direction. I quickly pulled my face back behind the tree. She had to of been fifty feet away through thick brush, there is no way she could have seen me and yet as soon as I turned back around there she was standing right in front of me. It was as if I was being followed and she was the pursuer all along.

"Why have ya been followin me" she yelled. The peaceful innocent looking girl from before was gone. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to where she was standing before but there was nothing there. The basket was gone along with the cloth and the ground where she stood wasn't even disturbed. It was as if she hadn't been there at all.

"I asked ya a question" she once again yelled at me.

"I'm not sure, I was following a man. I was there for hours waiting for him to leave a hut. You walked in front of me and I just found myself following you."

I didn't know why I was telling her what I was, I felt compelled to, as if some terrible fate would befall upon me if I lied. I couldn't look her in the face so I glanced down. In her hands was that tome but no longer open. It was a rather large hefty looking thing. Now that I could see it in greater detail the leather looked bizarre and yet somehow familiar. The decorations around the clasp I could see were bones, encasing a small metal plate. The bones looked like vertebrae and at the far side of the vertebrae to complete the circle were five human skulls the size of one's thumbnail. The spine of the tome was bound with black hair. The mere sight of the thing made me feel at unease.

"This book isn't meant ta be seen." She moved it behind her back and mostly out of my view.

"Now tell me bout this man."

"I saw him and two others at the market square. One of the men was rather nervous and looking around. They said something about a boy they found in the woods. I am assuming they meant the one they found mauled. They also mentioned something about others."

She looked perplexed and bit her lip contemplatively while shifting her weight from foot to foot. It looked cute and I couldn't help but smile a little at the sight.

"Can ya show me this hut?"

I nodded and we started walking back to town. It wasn't long before we stood in front of that small wooden building the man had entered. She glanced down at the book, at the building in front of us and then over at me. Night had descended upon us by the time we had reached it.

"You should return ta ya pap."

I looked at her, she was smiling but I could tell it was simply a mask. Her eyes betrayed her and I could tell she was hiding a deep sorrow. I opened my mouth but before I could say anything she kissed my forehead.

"Name's Saundra. Go back ta ya pap. I have work ta be done."

I stood there frozen as she advanced into the wooden building before us and once again my stomach churned with unease. I contemplated doing as she said and finding my father but I couldn't move away from that hut. I couldn't even avert my gaze and as if beckoned I found myself slowly advancing towards it. With every step the feeling of dread amplified in my body. My stomach felt as if it was full of rocks, my breathing heavy, and yet I couldn't turn away. Before I knew it I was standing at the door, my hand resting upon the latch that held the door shut. Every inch of my body wanted to scream and I stomach wanted to empty itself. With a gulp I steeled my will, released the latch and slowly opened the door.

The hut was unlit save for a hole in the center of the small room, the top of a ladder could be seen emerging from the gaping floor. The atmosphere inside was oppressive and a thick miasma filled the hut. I am still unaware if it was because of the smell that came pouring out of that building or some primal urge subconsciously trying to get me to turn back but my stomach emptied itself of it's contents in the doorway. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and glanced around trying to find any sign of Saundra. She had to have descended the ladder. Begrudgingly I made my way over to it.

The hole was roughly two feet wide advancing fifty feet into the earth. The ladder was affixed to the wall facing the door, lanterns aligned themselves the wall of the tunnel opposite the ladder the entire length down spacing themselves every ten feet. Save for heavy use the ladder was in rather good condition comparatively to the hut it was in. Strange sounds unlike any I've heard before were emanating from those depths.

I slowly made my way down the ladder trying to make out the sounds. It was starting to become clear to me that it was a conversation. The words however were in a language I couldn't understand. I was near the bottom when I heard it. A scream that could curdle blood in your veins. It was high pitched and feminine. My stomach dropped as I took off into a run. The tunnel had a slight descent to it. It stood just tall enough for a man to stand comfortably and wide enough for two men to stand abreast. A hundred feet from the ladder the tunnel opened up, a green light emanating from the entrance.

A guttural laugh could be heard from the room ahead of me. Something about that laugh was maddening. It warped my thoughts unleashing my deepest fears, fears I didn't even know of and that I couldn't fathom. It was as if when you were a child and you woke up in the pitch blackness in the middle of the night. The terrifying feeling of something standing in the corner of the room watching you, not knowing what it was and incapable of seeing it through the shroud of darkness, yet knowing it's there.

My body shut down before I made it even half way through the tunnel. My legs buckling underneath me I fell to the ground. I couldn't think. I curled myself up into a ball. A bizarre mix of crying, laughter, and screaming worked its way out from me. My thoughts were of despair and damnation. My vision started to black as I heard footsteps getting closer to me.

I awoke in the woods where I encountered Saundra. The moon was high and I made my way back to town. The scent of smoke and the cacophony of angry townsmen filled the air growing stronger as I made my approach. The small hut I was just in was engulfed in flames. Men of the village were rushing trying to contain the blaze. Throwing buckets of water onto the collapsing building as the roof caved. Others were downing their own homes in hope that a wandering spark wouldn't take their lively hoods out from underneath them. The women were keeping the children at bay while trying to console the crying ones.

My father was on the outskirts of the mob. His face was hard as if set in stone, his eyes focused on something in the distance. He didn't even flinch as the building collapsed in on itself. I knew all too well what he was watching, I walked up besides him.

"We have a witch."

"Where are they."

"Directly across from us, freckles, red hair."

"She has a grimoire."

This didn't feel right. Things didn't feel right but she had a grimoire. Could she have been the source of whatever was down in that hellish tunnel?

"I guess it's too late to figure out now." I muttered to myself. There was only one thing to be done. We had a job to do. I would help my father capture Saundra. She managed to elude us for a few days but eventually we caught her, just like the rest. Father went about his interrogation and she confessed, just like the rest. She was condemned to burn for her sins and for killing and disappearance of the two boys. Her screams still haunt me to this very day. She looked me in the eyes the whole time she burned. Screaming about how my father and I have just damned us all

After that I couldn't follow my father. When I was with him I couldn't lose the feeling of dread that seemed to follow us. I left his side as soon as I could, on my eighteenth name day. My dreams were haunted by that small shack, of Saundra's burning face, of her screams, and mostly that damned tunnel. I had to learn what was at the bottom of that tunnel. Five years passed and I followed in my father's footsteps more than I would have liked. Once my savings ran out and I started looking for work I found myself hunting withes just as my father intended. I was good at it, and it paid well. Eventually it led to where I am now. I am to meet the two girls in the morning.

The makeshift cell that contained the girls was made of rusting iron and I could only assume was used mostly for containing rabid mutts. The mud it sat in coated every inch of the two young girls. I glanced up to see a man walking towards me. The man was dressed and carried himself rather well contradicting how he looked. The man's skin was splotchy and gray hanging loose where it showed. The man wore glasses, the lenses dark. A large hat covered his head shading his face from the sun.

"Have you come to view the sinners, Sir?"

He looked at me quizzically.

"I am not wrong in thinking you were the man who employed my services am I sir? My name is not of importance. Worry not, I will get a confession from these sinners and be on my way."

I walked away. I had suspicions that those two girls had not given themselves over to evil. I walked around town observing the citizens. Everyone looked scared and nervous. Every one of them looked on edge, taught, as if the slightest thing breaking their routines would send them into a panic. I made my way back to my room at the tavern I was staying in. I froze upon opening the door. Sitting upon the desk was a tome I hadn't seen in years.

"Saundra's grimoire."

We were never able to find it after capturing her and all throughout her interrogation she refused to talk of it. Even when she was begging for death she would bite her tongue when father asked about it and yet here it sat. We always assumed she either hid it or gave it to someone for safe keeping but how did they find me? I haven't spoken with my father since we parted ways. I used a different name whenever I was forced to give one. I made sure to sever all ties to my old life.

I walked over to the tome. It looked the same as I remember it looking back when I glanced it in Saundra's arms. Even if it was held in the utmost care it surely couldn't look the same. Covers scuffed, spines wrinkled, pages tore and yellowed and yet if I didn't know better I'd have guess it was pulled from Saundra's grasp years ago, through time, to sit upon my desk in the present.

I reached down to touch it and upon contact my mind was flooded with information. It was as if I was living hundreds of lives all in the blink of an eye. Every thought, conversation, and emotion of these previous lives I experienced first hand as if they were happening to me. The last one was of Saundra. I fell to my knees. We had executed an innocent girl. I now knew who was behind everything.

"Ah, I see you have finally become chosen."

The voice was of the man who hired me to find the witches that plagued Salem but when I turned around what stood before me couldn't be called a man. It looked as if though a corpse was imitating the living. Walking around refusing to move on.

"You! You're the one who's been doing this. You and your damned god Xel'lotath!"

"You are too late, this town's madness will spread, furthering my master's desires. Take this fool!"

Two men entered the room and grabbed me. Try as I might I couldn't get loose of their grip. Now I sit in my own cage, next to the two young innocent girls, waiting o my turn for the pyre.


End file.
